


Time Capsule

by kiyala



Category: Avengers (Comic), Marvel, Marvel Avengers Movies Universe
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-10
Updated: 2012-06-10
Packaged: 2017-11-07 11:15:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/430494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiyala/pseuds/kiyala
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve is given a box of memories.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Time Capsule

There’s a box sitting on Steve’s desk with nothing but a piece of paper stuck to the top with his name scrawled on it. He recognises the handwriting—only Tony could be that careless with his penmanship—and Steve assumes that it must mean the box is safe to open.

His breath stutters when he opens the box, to discover stacks of photographs, small, worn notebooks, newspaper clippings. They’re all about him and, Steve realises as he carefully lifts them out of the box, they’ve all been collected by Howard Stark. 

Steve picks up one of the photographs on the top of the pile. It’s black and white, worn and faded with age, but he can still make out the figures in it. It’s him, with Howard, both of them smiling. Howard looks just as confident as always, a trait that he seems to have passed on to Tony. It occurs to Steve, as it sometimes does, how strange it is that he has the opportunity to witness and compare two worlds, so similar and yet so different to each other. 

He’s still standing there, carefully sorting through everything, reading Howard’s notes as he searched the ocean for Steve’s body, when Tony walks by. Steve looks up when Tony slows to a halt, a strange expression on his face as he looks at the box. Their eyes meet and Tony clears his throat, nodding in greeting.

“You like your present, then?”

“Present?”

Tony shrugs. “You have more use for it than I do.”

Steve shuts the notebook he’s reading, placing it back in the box. “This is…” strange, comforting, terrifying, all at once.

“Dad used to talk about you all the time,” Tony says, his hands in his pockets, half turned away. “I got to a point where I just stopped listening to most of what he had to say, but whenever he talked about you, I paid attention. You’re one of the only things we really had in common. Funny how that’s even truer now than before.”

Steve smiles, but it’s strained, uncomfortable. He has no idea how to reply. He just glances down at the box and says, “Thank you.”

Tony nods and pauses for a moment, like he wants to say more, but remains silent as he walks away. Steve watches him go, before picking up the notebook again. 

A loose piece of folded paper falls out and Steve manages to catch it, opening it curiously. It’s a child’s drawing, of three stick figures. One is an adult, labelled _Dad_ , with a moustache and a tie. There’s a child beside him, labelled _Me_ and on the other side of the child, an even larger stick figure, coloured in red and blue, labelled _Cap_.

Steve smiles, glancing in the direction Tony left, and puts the drawing back in its rightful place. He’ll have to think of a way to thank Tony properly; the box is the best present he’s ever received.


End file.
